


A "Selfish" King [Fic and Podfic]

by Annapods, heeroluva



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Polyamory, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 22:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11519115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods, https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Tales tell of a selfish king, a king who could not choose, but I’m here to tell the tale of a king who couldn’t help but love all he met and in the process managed to unite a war torn land.





	A "Selfish" King [Fic and Podfic]

 

**Streaming and download** (right-click and "save as"): [mp3](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2017/%5BWOW%5D%20A%20-Selfish-%20King.mp3)

 

 

  
“Tales tell of a selfish king, a king who could not choose, but I’m here to tell the tale of a king who couldn’t help but love all he met and in the process managed to unite a war torn land.

Wrathion, Prince of the Black Dragonflight and the then Prince Anduin of Stormwind did not start as friends. No, they butted heads at every turn. But this is not the story of their friendship, but what it would one day become.

Wrathion disappeared for a number of years, and I’m sure those of you alive at the time heard the rumors, rumors that behind the scenes he pulled the strings of countless individuals.

But at the time those rumors were very wrong.

While Wrathion was a very powerful dragon, he was still very young and neither omnipotent nor all-knowing. He had no way of foreseeing that his actions would draw the attention of a being even stronger than Wrathion himself.

Sargeras wanted Wrathion as his agent and sent his minions to retrieve him. Wrathion fought fiercely but was overcome, and the demons brought him to their master.

When Sargeras offered Wrathion untold power, Wrathion laughed in his face. It mattered not to Sargeras: those who did not join the corrupt titan willingly would either be converted or die. And thus began Wrathion’s torture.

A little known fact about the dragons is that while not immune to the effects of the Fel, they are highly resistant to it, and Wrathion was no different. Wrathion held out as long as he could, taking what little comfort he could from the bare earth of his prison cell’s floor when he was thrown in during the rare break between sessions of torture.

Time became meaningless to Wrathion, days bleeding into months as pain became his life.

I do not tell you this to make you pity him, but rather make him relatable. Wrathion may be a dragon, yes, but he is not so different from us.

Anduin is not the hero of this account. He did not show up in a blaze of glory and rescue his future lover. No, Anduin did not even know Wrathion had been missing or captured until his own forces stumbled across him when cleaning out a Legion stronghold.”

 

Idly browsing through the mission reports sent from his champions that had been marked as urgent, Anduin went to attention upon seeing the name inked on the page before him: _Wrathion_.

Quickly scanning the paper, and then rereading it more carefully upon finding confirmation that Wrathion was alive, Anduin noted the extensive list of injuries. Wrathion had been found in what the reports described as a Legion torture chamber. Anduin frowned upon learning that while Wrathion was in the custody of his people, he had not yet awoken. Dragons were hardy and healed quickly. For Wrathion to still be unconscious for so long meant that Wrathion was far more damaged that the list of his injuries implied.

While the urge to rush to Wrathion’s side was great, Anduin was no longer the child who could run wherever he pleased with no consequences. He missed the freedom, but he had a responsibility to his people that he could not ignore just to check on an old friend.

Instead Anduin penned a note to Bishop DeLavey, informing him of the situation and emphasizing the need for discretion. DeLavey was an old friend, and while he understandably held the same distrust of the Black Dragonflight as most of the citizens of Stormwind, DeLavey would not let that prejudice his work. Anduin trusted that DeLavey would see Wrathion well cared for until he was able to be moved to a more secure location.

 

  
“Despite the care Wrathion received, he would not wake for many months. By that time Anduin, regardless of the risks, had had Wrathion moved to Stormwind to monitor him himself.

Each morning Anduin would check on him, and on one such morning, he found Wrathion’s room empty. When Wrathion’s whereabouts were finally discovered, he was not among the peaks of the castle as Anduin expected, but rather in the palace gardens.”

 

  
The gardens and surrounding areas had been cleared as per Anduin’s orders, and despite Genn’s attempt to convince Anduin to let him accompany him, he would have none of it. He was certain that his guards lurked in the shadows and on the ramparts above them, but Anduin would expect no less from them.

Anduin wasn’t certain what he’d expected to find, but it wasn’t Wrathion on all fours, arms buried nearly elbow deep in soil, his head bowed so low that the curves of his short horns brushed the ground. Despite being witness to it everyday, it was still strange to see Wrathion without his customary turban. Anduin hadn’t realized that Wrathion had been hiding his horns and a mop of curls beneath it.

At first Anduin didn’t understand what Wrathion was doing, but the sudden remembrance of the Black Dragonflight’s connection to the very earth beneath their feet, to Azeroth itself, had Anduin realize just how much of an idiot he’d been.

Finally sensing Anduin’s presence, Wrathion’s head snapped up, and he bared his rather impressive fangs. Despite the display, Anduin did not heed the warning and moved closer until the swell of power became so great that Anduin stumbled, his bad leg giving out beneath him. Instead of the expected pain, Anduin found himself caught by Wrathion.

For long moments they stared at each other, Anduin all but sitting on Wrathion’s lap, Wrathion’s power still licking at Anduin, but not nearly so oppressively. Wrathion’s eyes glowed a brighter red than Anduin could ever recall seeing of them before, and he had to fight the urge to look away.

Instead Anduin focused on the smudge of dirt on Wrathion’s cheek and broke the silence. “You should be resting.”

For a moment Wrathion appeared startled before laughing. “I am well rested it seems, thanks to you.”

 

“Retiring to a more comfortable location, they talked for many hours: about what’s happened during Wrathion’s imprisonment, just how far the Legion’s power had spread, just how bad their losses were, and what Anduin knew about the Horde’s own battles.

It would be many years before Wrathion would share the horrors of his captivity with Anduin.

While it had been relatively easy to hide Wrathion’s presence in Stormwind Keep when he’d been unconscious, too many people had seen him after he’d awoken, and in the days that followed plans were put in action to rescue their King from what clearly had to be a Black Dragon’s undue influence.

Those plans were interrupted when the Legion attacked Stormwind, set on killing the very leaders Azeroth.”

 

 

In the middle of the city, Anduin yelled orders, sweat dripping down his brow as he struggled to hold onto the Light in the face of such oppressive darkness. His resolve hardened as another of his soldiers fell. He could not lose faith. They could not fail. They would hold for as long as necessary for the city’s population to evacuate. In the chaos of the fighting, Anduin had lost sight of Wrathion some time ago, but he knew the dragon could hold his own.

“King Anduin!” one of his soldiers called, the tone panicked.

Turning towards the direction of the voice, Anduin swallowed convulsively at the sight of the massive portal and equally massive demon that stepped through it, the likes of which was unlike any Anduin had ever seen before. The path it cut through his people was swift and brutal, their screams and cries ringing in his ears.

“We must retreat!” Genn shouted as he closed the distance between them and grabbed Anduin’s arm.

Anduin shook off the hand, and shook his head. “We hold.”

“My Kin—”

“We hold,” Anduin repeated again, interrupting Genn’s protest.

While clearly unhappy with the order, Genn nodded and turned towards the demon still approaching before shifting into his worgen form.

Genn was knocked aside as though he was nothing more than an annoying fly, and Anduin stood face to face with the bringer of his death. The demon’s mouth opened and a swirling green ball of Fel formed.

Just as the beam exploded from the creature’s mouth, a large black form appeared between Anduin and the demon. An agonized roar brought the fighting to a standstill as the beam of Fel cut through the dragon’s—Wrathion’s!—flesh and sheared off a wing before cutting through Anduin’s shield like it didn’t exist and catching him in the shoulder.

Anduin cried out at the pain, but forced his healing magic into Wrathion. Despite the clear agony he was in, Wrathion’s fangs found the demon’s neck and ripped out its throat.

The demon toppled to the ground, Wrathion’s smaller form caught half beneath it. Seeing the demon fall brought new hope to the fighters, and slowly but surely they gained the upper hand until the remaining demons chose to flee.

The pain and exhaustion finally catching up to him, Anduin fell to his knees beside Wrathion’s prone form. Placing his hands on Wrathion’s snout, Anduin pushed more magic into him, attempting to stop the bleeding, the pool of blood beneath his knees still growing at a far too rapid rate.

“Stop,” Wrathion rasped out.

Anduin ignored him.

“Stop,” Wrathion repeated more harshly.

Still Anduin ignore him.

Wrathion twisted, howling in agony as he struggled to drag himself from beneath the bulk of the fallen demon, and forcing Anduin back. “Do not continue to drain yourself further at my expense. You are necessary to the future of this world. Azeroth must stand united if we are to have any chance of winning against the Legion. You are the only one who has a chance of convincing the other races of this.”

 

  
“Tales of Wrathion’s actions spread quickly and much of the distrust faded. Despite the gravity of his wounds, Wrathion healed quickly, though with the loss of his wing, he would likely never fly again. It was a minor inconvenience in the face of the impending doom of the world. While kept carefully hidden, Anduin’s wound festered, and despite his constant use of healing magic, it began to spread.

Many attempts were made to cure him, but it was only when Right managed to obtain a once common but now rare bottle of Aqual Quintessence at Wrathion’s bidding that they were able to halt the spread. The damage done refused to ever fully heal though, and Anduin was left with severely limited use of his left arm.

It was still strong enough to halt a fleeing Wrathion in his steps when it wrapped around his wrist, not wishing to cause Anduin harm.

Even knowing that the time was far from right, in the face of increasingly deadly fight with the Legion that spread across their lands, Anduin could no longer remain silent. The kiss that Anduin pressed to the startled dragon’s mouth would be the first of many.

The passion that sparked between them would shock no one who knew them. However, between the continuing war efforts, Anduin’s increasingly frequent diplomatic forays into Horde territory, and Wrathion’s own attempts to reconnect with and expand his Blacktalon spy network, there was little time for them to be together.

They kept in contact as best they could, but it wasn’t until after the Alliance and the Horde reached an agreement, until after their combined strength managed to strike Sargeras down and drive the fragmented Legion off of Azeroth, hopefully once and for all, that Anduin and Wrathion were able to spend more than a handful of stolen moments together.”

 

 

Sweat soaked and sated, Anduin rested his head on Wrathion’s shoulder. Wrathion’s body temperature ran warmer than a human, hot enough that it was nearly uncomfortable, but Anduin didn’t care, just happy to be near Wrathion. Drawing random patterns on Wrathion’s chest with his fingers, Anduin finally asked the question that had been plaguing him. “Where will you go now?”

Wrathion was silent for a long time. “My purpose as it has always been is to ensure the safety of Azeroth.”

“And if I asked you to stay?”

Smiling, Wrathion pulled Anduin up for a kiss. “I require no specific location to protect Azeroth. I will stay by your side for as long as you will have me.”

Something in Anduin’s chest fluttered and melted. They did not leave his chambers for three days.

 

 

“As with all things, nothing stayed simple. Anduin and Wrathion’s relationship was the worst kept secret in the Alliance, but it didn’t stop the increasingly more vocal “hints” that it was time for Anduin to do his duties and take a wife to give him an heir to the throne.

It was Wrathion who convinced him to marry.”

 

  
“You should take a wife.”

Anduin’s back went rigid in his chair before he turned wide eyes towards Wrathion. “Is this your not so subtle attempt to end our relationship?” Anduin asked in disbelief.

Wrathion scoffed at the accusation. “You know I will never leave you.”

“Then what are you on about?”

“The royals won’t stop pestering you until you marry and produce an heir.”

“And _you arre_ okay with this?” Anduin asked, slowly annunciating every word.

Wrathion draped himself across Anduin’s lap and pressed a kiss to his lips. “So often you forget that I am not human. Dragons are rarely monogamous.”

“And you would share me?”

“With a wife of your choosing, so long as I approve, yes. Just remember you will always be mine,” Wrathion said as he captured Anduin’s mouth in a kiss.

 

  
“The wife that Anduin eventually chose was protested by many nobles, but he would not hear any of it. Hollister, his chosen, was only very minor royalty, the seventh child of a minor family and had been sold off to the Kirin Tor at a young age, so she had none of the customary training that was typical of nobility. Not only was she a mage but a warmage at that. She was also nearly thirteen years his senior, well educated, and would not be cowed. She even seemed to find Anduin’s stupid jokes funny, and he had liked her instantly.

Anduin was upfront with her when he approached her. Hollister had listened attentively as he’d laid out the terms of a possible relationship. He was in need of a Queen, someone to act as a strong mother to his children, but also someone who could love Stormwind as much as he did and rule by his side. He told her about his relationship with Wrathion, and how she would have to agree to share him if she accepted his proposition. A fertility test was also a requirement.

At Hollister’s request, Anduin had given her time to consider it.

A week later Hollister came to him, and agreed on one condition: that she got to meet with Wrathion alone.

Anduin agreed, and Wrathion and Hollister spent nearly a day together behind closed doors. Anduin never learned what was said that day, but they both exited the room smiling.

Six months later they were married, and nine months after that Hollister gave birth to their first child, Tiffin, named after Anduin’s mother.

Six years later Anduin and Hollister were parents to three daughters and a son.

It was a strange family with one mother, two fathers, and many doting aunts and uncles, but the children grew up happy and loved in a time of peace… for a time.

Peace as it often does, did not last though, and slowly without the common enemy to keep them united, the tentative peace between Horde and Alliance began to crumble despite Anduin’s attempts to hold them together.”

 

  
“I could have them killed,” Wrathion offered offhandedly over dinner in their shared rooms one night.

Head snapping up, Anduin asked, “Have _who_ killed?”

“The people causing you to frown like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Anduin said, “I rather think the assassination of the Horde leaders will cause me no end of problems.”

Wrathion merely smiled.

“Oh no, I know that look. What have you done?”

Tiffin suddenly ran in, tears streaming down her face, and Wrathion was on his knees at her side instantly.

“Papa,” she wailed, throwing herself in his arms. “The other children don’t believe I know a dragon. You’ll show them right?”

Wrathion glanced at Anduin.

“Go, but do not think that this conversation is over.”

By the end of the day everyone knew about the dragon doing magic tricks for the children.

When Wrathion returned to their chambers late that evening, Anduin was mostly asleep. When Wrathion climbed into their bed, Anduin pulled him close.

“You don’t need to hide from me you know. I’ve never minded your dragon form,” Anduin murmured quietly.

“I know,” Wrathion replied with a sigh. “I missed that form, but this is less painful, less of a remainder.”

Anduin’s stomach twisted with guilt.

“None of that now. I do not regret my actions that day.”

“If I was stronger—”

“You are a strong King. That you are not a warrior is not a slight against you. There is more to strength than physical prowess. Besides who would heal me, if not you?”

Wrathion yelped when Anduin smacked his bare ass.

“You’re incorrigible. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your scheming. Tell me what you know.”

“There is war coming.”

“I know.”

“If I killed the right people I could end it before it began.”

The temptation to let Wrathion do just that was strong, but Anduin knew that if he did, it would just be the start of a cycle, an endless stream of death by Anduin’s hands. He couldn’t be that kind of King. Maybe it made him a fool, but he still felt all life was precious even if they didn’t hold the same ideals that he did. “No,” Anduin said firmly with a shake of his head.

“If you insist.”

 

“As predicted war came again, but it was quickly shut down when the Horde leaders came together. Both the Alliance and the Horde had prospered during the years of peace before war came again. Trade agreements had been made. Cross-cultural friendships and relationships had blossomed as people began to learn that there was more to the supposed monsters than they’d originally thought. Neither side had wanted to fight against those who had become their friends, but the Orcs had been especially outspoken about it until their leaders had no choice but to step in.

That didn’t stop the occasional skirmishes, and many of the Forsaken broke away from the Horde, not liking the forced peace.

Rumors abounded that the war had been cut off before it could truly begin by Wrathion’s Blacktalon agents for it was known that Wrathion would do anything that he felt necessary to protect Azeroth, even from its own inhabitants. The scars left by decades of warring were finally beginning to heal.

As the years passed, the injuries Anduin had received in his youth began to take their toll on him, and feeling that he was no longer able to do his duties as King, he and Hollister agreed to pass the throne to Tiffin, who had in the in her youth chosen to follow in her father’s footsteps and embraced the Light but took the path of paladin rather than priest. She would become a great Queen.

With more free time than ever, Anduin took to wandering the city, always willing to lend an open ear for anything the citizens might want to talk about. Wrathion was always close by on those strolls and made certain that Anduin rested often.”

 

  
“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to the palace,” Bethany, a guard, overheard one day as Wrathion pushed Anduin onto a nearby bench.

The differences between them were striking, Anduin slowly limping along with a cane and beginning to stoop with age, hair greying, with deep wrinkles in his face while Wrathion appeared as young as ever.

Bethany fought the urge to laugh as Anduin batted away Wrathion’s hands.

“You keep this up, and you’ll be sleeping in the stables tonight.”

“And let you catch a chill? I think not.”

If that wasn’t love then Bethany wasn’t sure what was. She smiled and nodded her greeting to the former king when Anduin looked her way.

“Good morning, Bethany. Please tell Wrathion that he worries too much.”

No longer able to hold it in, Bethany laughed. A part of her was amazed that Anduin knew her name, but it was well known that Anduin never forgot a face or a name. It was one of the many reasons his people loved him. “From what the tales tell, if left to your own devices you’d be wandering across unexplored continents heedless of the dangers. It’s good that you have someone to worry about you.”

Wrathion laughed, and Anduin shot him a betrayed look.

“I wasn’t that bad.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

 

 

“When Anduin died, it was the largest funeral in the history of Azeroth, all factions sending delegates to the Alliance capital city. Anduin had touched many lives, made many friends, and all wished to pay their respects to the great King who had helped unite Azeroth against the biggest threat their world had ever seen, and then had help broker a longer lasting peace.

Wrathion stayed with the family for a number of years before fading from the public eye. The fact that dragons are known to be possessive by nature cause some to say he rules from the shadows, but your guess is as good as mine.

As with all history, some details are lost over the years. Many of you probably only knew tales of Anduin as the king who caused a scandal by following his heart. But he was so much more than that. I ask you to consider this: Anduin always brought out the best in people, believed that there was good in everyone. Do not let the legacy he created fade in these peaceful times.”

 

 

When evening came and the dark skinned bard went on his way, some of the regulars took note of the a hooded man who followed with a limp. Outside he lowered his hood revealing a blond head of hair. Fingers linked together, they walked down the road towards Stormwind.

 

  
“I’m not aging,” Anduin said one morning after his bath, standing nude in front of the mirror. He hadn’t changed since he’d used the Aqual Quintessence on his Fel induced wounds over a decade ago.

“No,” Wrathion agreed, moving to stand by his side.

Anduin still found the contrast of their colors striking even after all their years together and felt his heart quicken.

From his pocket Wrathion pulled out a necklace that held a large gem the same color as his eyes.

When Anduin ducked his head to accept it, Wrathion slipped it over his neck. When it came to rest on his chest, Anduin curled his hand around the surprisingly light and pleasantly warm pendent and shot Wrathion a quizzical look.

“After doing some research, I condensed a portion of my magic and bound a glamor spell to it. It should make you appear to age slowly.”

“And if I never age?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes, together as we always do.”

Anduin’s smile was blinding as he pulled Wrathion to him, wondering how he’d managed to get so lucky.


End file.
